Dear Dad: Please Don't Tell Mum
by ParadoxicallyRandom
Summary: Because when disaster strikes, sometimes it's easier just to confess to Dad. And who knows? Maybe after you write them down, your problems won't seem so big after all.
1. Sincerely, Hugo

**My first story. Horrible, I know, but I hope I'll get better in time. If anyone reads this, please review? I need constructive criticism, but I also need a friend or two on this site. Thanks!**

**So, to those of you who don't get the point of this, it's a series of comical letters from HP characters to their fathers. I'll be starting off with nextgen, and then maybe doing repeats of certain characters...we'll see. So this is Hugo's; next up will be Scorpius.**

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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum, but I failed my Apparition test. Yeah, Lily got her license all right, but I splinched_. Splinched! _You see, it was all a case of nerves. Before today, I swear I could apparate _anywhere_. Besides the official lessons, Lily and I practiced for ages during our last Hogsmeade weekend. (Don't tell Mum _that_ either. She'll go on about how both of us are "underage" and should be behaving ourselves...not that she's at all justified. When you were our age, you guys were total delinquents. But that's beside the point.)

Anyways, when we tested, they made us travel from behind the Three Broomsticks to the front of Madam Puddifoot's. My examiner didn't like me much to begin with...he told me that I should cut my hair, clip my nails, and take a bath. Apparently "children these days" aren't what they were in "the good old days." I mean, honestly, before going at me, he really should have done something about his warts. They weren't just normal warts, they were warts upon warts. And warts upon those as well. Not to mention his teeth. Like he'd _painted_ them yellow before he came. Ugh. Oh god, I'm rambling, aren't I? _Damn_ it all.

Well, so when I apparated, I was quite a few feet off target. Oh, and I overbalanced, tripped over my own toes, and fell on the examiner's shoes. Nightmarish, you know. And the way he looked at me after I had picked myself up...I was petrified - _petrified_, I tell you. The only thing that was keeping me somewhat sane was the fact that I hadn't splinched myself in any noticeable way. I counted my fingers and toes twice over to be sure. But apparently, that _dingbat_ of an examiner wanted to be more thorough than that. It was horrendous - I just had to stand there, enduring Lily's laughter from behind, while my eyebrow hairs, eyelashes, and so forth were inspected. After about five minutes of pure awkwardness, I was reluctantly let through. The examiner seemed completely furious; he squeezed my hand with a grip of steel. And while he was cutting off all blood circulation from my wrist forwards, he noticed that the fingernail on my right thumb was slightly shorter than it had been about five minutes previously. And that was the end of that. I was told that if I managed to splinch my nail, I could just as easily leave my head behind, and where would I be then? (Of course, if he hadn't noticed the length of my nails to begin with, I surely would've slipped by. But that's just _my_ luck, isn't it?)

Lily says it's not the end of the world, but I'm afraid I've ruined any chance I have of living a somewhat successful life. With my parents, our reputation - how can I go on with a failed Apparition test? What on earth do I do now, Dad? Mum told me during Christmas hols that it didn't matter, even _you_ didn't pass your first test. But what if she's changed her mind, or didn't mean it in the first place? Rose and Albus got their licenses two years ago without any problem. Bloody hell, even _James _managed it. Why not me? I feel like a total idiot. I need advice - please. I don't want to be disowned.

Sincerely,  
><em>Hugo<em>


	2. Sincerely, Scorpius

**Gasp. I got reviews. :D I feel loved...thanks a bunch, guys. (But it's actually a bit depressing when I get an email and it's not from Pottermore. It seems like everybody who registered for the beta has already gotten a welcome email. Except for me. Has anyone else not gotten theirs either?) **

**Anyways, I really have nothing much to do today, so I might as well just post the next chapter. For some reason, I'm really proud of this one. At least, I'm proud of the plot. I dashed it off really quickly, so I'm not sure about the grammar, etc.  
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** After this, it'll be one of three: Albus in the hospital wing, Rose and her first detention, or James and the Forbidden Forest. Tell me which you'd prefer in a review, 'kay?**

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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum - she'll harp on about _chivalry_, of all things - but I need advice on ditching a girl. It's my first-ever Hogsmeade visit next Saturday, and I've somehow managed to get a date. The problem is, I'd rather be eaten by an Acromantula than go with her. She's psychotic...creepy...not _normal. _I suppose you'll need a bit of background before you can tell me what to do. Granted, it's a very strange story, but I promise you it's the truth. And without your help, I'm completely lost.

I met her in the girls' lavatory. Yeah, I know that I shouldn't have been there in the first place. But I was checking Potter's Herbology essay against my own, and then Professor Longbottom appeared in the hallway, and he would think I was cheating, so what could I do but hide? (No, Potter and I aren't _friends, _not by a long shot. You see, I let the Weasley girl - yes, _that_ Weasley girl - borrow my Transfig. notes when she lost her own last month. I just felt sorry for her; she was literally hyperventilating. And after she copied them, she wouldn't pay me back, let alone thank me. I tell you, she has stubbornness issues. So Potter, in exchange for helping his cousin, let me see his essay. I accepted, but _only_ because I was losing sleep from that horrid Ancient Runes project and had practically no time for any other homework. Weasley slapped Potter and punched me, but I was still grateful. I swear, though, that it's only a temporary truce. Potter and I are still enemies.)

So, anyways, I resumed comparing the essays while sitting on a toilet seat. I was too scared to leave, lest I run into Professor Longbottom. Getting into trouble for cheating would have been bad enough, without adding to it the penalty for being in the wrong bathroom. It was absolutely disgusting and smelled foul; if Filch saw it, he would've had a fit. And in the middle of this, _she_ popped up. You know the type: rather ugly, pigtails, horrendous glasses, and a tittering laugh that sounded like it originated in the depths of hell. She stared for a few seconds, then immediately told me that I reminded her of someone and asked who I was. In shock, I blurted that I was Scorpius Malfoy, third year Ravenclaw, and begged her not to tell anybody about the Herbology essay. She gave a hiccuping giggle before telling me that I was "absolutely adorable_" _and that she would snog me ten times over if she could_. _Obviously, I immediately ran to the door handle - but before I could turn it, she stopped me and asked me out. I declined with revulsion, but she claimed that she would snitch on me to my head of house if I didn't say yes. So what could I do? Professor Flitwick doesn't like me much at all, and would readily believe _anything_ negative against me. If someone told him that I jumped into the Black Lake and murdered the Giant Squid with the Sword of Gryffindor, I'm afraid he'd believe that too.

So...that's it. Talk about a dilemma. Hurry up and give me an answer, Dad, because I _can't _follow through with the date. And I can't go back and refuse without her telling Professor Flitwick that I was "cheating", and thus losing a _million _points from Ravenclaw. I really don't know what to do. Is it even possible to go out with a ghost, anyway?

Sincerely,  
><em>Scorpius<em>

P.S. - Moaning Myrtle told me to give you her regards, and that she's always there if you ever again need a shoulder to cry on. I don't quite get her reference, but you should. **  
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	3. Sincerely, Rose

**Ugh. Sorry for the slow upload. So this chapter is Rose with her first detention. With some minor Rose/Scorpius that Rose tries to conceal from Ron...very badly. I now see what people mean when they say that their characters write themselves...the Rose in my head was freakishly paranoid while Hugo was logical. And now they've switched. XD Don't take the following chapter seriously; it involves a random prank gone wrong, a madcap chase through Hogwarts, and Filch popping out of corners. However weird it may be, _please_ don't hesitate to review. I don't want to be annoying, but four reviews for the first chapter and one for the second? I know I have readers...let me feel the review-love...  
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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum, but I got my first detention today. I know she won't really mind - after all, she got hers in _first_ year over the whole Norbert(a) affair - but I'd rather you knew first. Don't worry, I'm not crying my eyes out over it. In fact, I rather expected this. My record has been spotless for the past five years; something bad was bound to happen. I just wish it was for a worthwhile cause, you know? (At least for something less mundane than "running/performing magic in the corridors".)

So today afternoon, Albus and the Malfoy-idiot were studying for their Charms O.W.L in the library. I have no idea why those two even associate with each other. _Honestly. _Then Al suddenly remembered Quidditch practice, and asked me to save his seat while he was gone. And thus I was stuck sitting with Scorpius and a stack of textbooks. (No, Dad, we certainly did _not_ have a good time. We were _not _practicing incantations together, we were _not _laughing over the ridiculous ways he messed up the aforementioned incantations, and we were _not _occupied thus for more than three hours. If anyone tells you otherwise, he or she is completely and utterly wrong.) Well, we were looking at the Colour Change Charm...take that back. _I _was looking at it in one book, and _he_ was looking at it in a different book. Anyways, Malfoy went off to supposedly practice said Colour Change Charm, and then ran back in an obvious hurry. He stopped at the table to catch his breath, grabbed the textbooks, smiled (sorry, I mean _frowned_) at me apologetically, and dashed off again. A few seconds later those two Slytherin boys, Boil and Snot - excuse me, _Goyle and Nott -_ stumble in from the same direction. I have absolutely no idea what they were doing in the library, of all places. I doubt Goyle even knows the alphabet, and Nott is street-smart, rather than bookish. Under normal circumstances, the two are comical...they were even more so with blue hair and orange skin. (And due to their lack of brains, they were obviously unable to reverse the charm.) When I burst into hysterical laughter, they started towards me, wands drawn. So I ran. Not that I was afraid of being hit by the few spells they knew. I was just afraid of being hit by their _fists. _

Where else to run other than after Malfoy himself? After all, he had _bloody well _gotten me into this mess to begin with. And it was truly a mess. Malfoy's former cronies after me, and me after Scorpius. We all ended up at the Ravenclaw Common Room at the same time; even though Malfoy had a rather large head start, he was utterly _flummoxed _by the knocker's question - something involving particles and Animagi, I believe. So he panicked (_typical_ of him) and turned right back around, and the rest of us followed suit. But then that idiot did something so _stupid_ that it was pure _genius_. He sprinted past Professor Longbottom, of all people, who then grabbed Goyle and Nott by their shirt collars and dragged them to his office. Apparently they were each missing three weeks of Herbology homework.

So it was just me chasing Malfoy, this time towards the Slytherin Common Room. It was _mad_, I tell you. We fought through a crowd of confused first-years, and almost tripped over Mrs. Norris twice. (Why on earth is that _fleabag_ still alive? I mean, if she was around in your time too, who knows how old she is?) Anyways, Scorpius muttered something and dashed into the Common Room. I followed suit, but realized too late that the password I knew was outdated. And then I did something stupid. In fact, it was really, _really _stupid. I know you and Mum have told me to control my temper, but I was simply too angry to care. So I sent some _random_ spell at the wall - I don't even know what it was supposed to do. And at that very moment, Filch _conveniently_ popped out of a tapestry and gave me a detention (for the reasons listed above.)

I'm not looking for a way out of the detention; I don't think it's possible to argue your way out of a detention anyway. But some sympathy would be nice, if you could offer any. Oh, and if you have any advice involving cleaning charms, that would be helpful too. Filch will either make me scrub the infirmary floor or oil the chains in his office. (Yeah, _those _chains. The ones he's saving for the day when he'll be able to hang students from the ceiling.)

Sincerely,  
><em>Rose<em>


	4. Sincerely, Albus

**To all my reviewers: Sorry for the _freakishly_ late update, but my muse was concentrated on a James/Lily oneshot...I'd love it if you checked that out too; it's feeling a bit under-appreciated. But even if you don't want to, thank you all for following this and giving me your comments - it means a lot to me. Keep reviewing, pretty please? And some constructive criticism if you have the time, because I know I'm nowhere near perfect. And if you have even more time than that, a reallyreallyreally long review makes me happy. (Sorry, I know I'm being an idiot here. XD)  
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**So here we have Albus, alone and miserable in the Hospital Wing. How did he get there? Well...you'll see. **

**Since I'm in the mood, a list of upcoming chapters, in no particular order. Yeah, there aren't much. Once I run out, I'll need ideas - PM me with suggestions if you can. **

**_Lily Luna Potter _is in her fifth year and has just replaced a graduated James as Gryffindor Chaser. And thus she somehow gets the worst case of Quidditch nerves ever seen. **

**_James Sirius Potter _"almost dies" in the Forbidden Forest. Damn the Acromantulas. Features two OCs (Philippa Clarke and Octavian Macmillan, if anyone cares), because it's no fun to wander in the forest alone. Don't worry, they have real personalities...hopefully. And nobody, absolutely _nobody_, could be a Mary-Sue if seen through the eyes of James.  
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**_Victoire Weasley _manages to get half her hair cut off. Fleur would NOT be happy.  
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**_Lorcan Scamander _has just had his first Care of Magical Creatures lesson, and starts to doubt the existence of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. **

**_Lysander Scamander _thinks he's fallen in lurrrve. _Ooooh._ Problem? Lily Luna Potter is the most utterly sensible person in the school, Head Girl, and two years older than him.  
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**Anywayyys, I'll shut up now. **

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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum, but I'm writing this from the Hospital Wing. It's the first school day of my first year at Hogwarts, and I'm in the _Hospital Wing_. But if Mum knew, she'd throw a fit. I remember last year when James broke his ankle after accidentally casting the Trip Jinx on himself...she was positively livid when his letter arrived home. (You wouldn't know, though; I think you were at work.) So I guess it's only reasonable that I want to tell you everything instead. I wouldn't be so miserable, I expect, if this wasn't _entirely_ my fault.

First lesson of the day was Charms. Flitwick seems to like me...well, Flitwick _liked _me. Before...you know. Before. We got through the basic course description rather fast, so he gave us a quick background on Levitation and made us take notes. Actually, Rose was the only person actually _taking _notes. Me? Well, I _attempted_. Still not quite used to using a quill. (I seriously think you and Mum spoiled us by giving us those Muggle pencils...that kind where you push the eraser and the...lead comes out.)

Where was I? Oh yes. Rose, being _Rose_, practiced levitating her quill when Flitwick was turned the other way. Yeah, Flitwick told us specifically not to practice _Wingardium Leviosa _until we had fully studied the theory, and were under his express supervision. But _Rose _can go and break any rules she wants, and get away with it, too. (Oh dear, I'm being _bitter_, aren't I? I really do love her, _really_. I don't _blame _her for anything...well, I suppose I do.) Well, you see, Rose was being terribly irritating...no, she wasn't. I was just so _ terribly irritated_ by her successful levitation that I attempted to copy her. The thing was, even though I _thought _I knew what I was doing, it turns out I didn't. At all. So instead of my quill floating, my entire _desk _rose up ten feet into the air. I'm not sure what happened next, but I think it fell on my head...and according to Rose, I was completely knocked out.

When I came to, I was in the Hospital Wing, and Madam Pomfrey was going on and on _and on _about how I had even less regard for my personal safety than _you. _Honestly, I thought that was unfair - it wasn't like I was actually _trying_ to get hit by my desk! And then I believe I passed out yet again, but felt much better when I woke up. She must've done something to me when I was sleeping. I tried to ditch and go back to the Gryffindor Common Room, but Madam Pomfrey's making me stay the night for reasons unknown. Rose visited me though...and she tried to make me feel better. Emphasis on _tried. _She told me that it must've taken a great deal of "innate magical power" in order to levitate such a huge object so high on my first try. Yeah...it didn't help much. She also gave me all of her notes for the first day, which helped even less. But then before leaving she snuck me a couple of Chocolate Frogs. Somehow chocolate has the power to make _anyone _happy. Except me. I still feel _awful _about the whole affair.

Well, it could've been worse. If Gryffindor and Ravenclaw shared Charms, I'd probably be dead right now. Oh, I never told you, did I? That Malfoy boy's in Ravenclaw. I don't think he's happy about it, though; every time I've run into him in the corridors, he's hanging around with the Slytherin idiots and having a serious case of the sulks. No, I don't feel sorry for him _at all_. Rose and I have utterly hated him since we met on the train compartment - and I think the feeling's mutual. Actually, Rose has it worse off than I do. (He insulted her yesterday after supper, so she pointed her wand at him and accidentally sent sparks flying. They almost set his robes on fire. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life.)

Anyway, Madam Pomfrey's threatening to turn the lights out on me. Reply soon. Tell Mum and Lily nothing about _this_, but do tell them I love them heaps. If Mum asks how Professor Longbottom is, tell her I thought his first lesson was amazing. (Not that _I_ would know, though. I'm only taking Rose's word for it.)

Sincerely,_  
>Albus<em>


	5. Sincerely, Lily

**Does anyone even read these? Whatever. Author's Notes still make the world go 'round. XD  
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**It's really weird how my even chapters seem to get one review and my odd chapters get a lot... Come on, people! I'm a lonelyyy author here. Tell you what. I'll instigate an official review-for-a-review policy. From now on. Send me a review - I send you one. Send me one for two different chapters - I send you two. Fair enough? And you can PM me with ideas, suggestions, or...just to say hi. I repeat, lonely authors need friends. (Gosh, I sound really desperate. But seriously...please?)  
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**_VERY IMPORTANT_: Nah, not really. But still. As a favor, in your review (if you want to send one...) could you please tell me:**

**1. Which chapter you found the most humorous.  
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**2. Which chapter you _liked_ the most.**

**3. Which character's point of view you enjoyed the most.**

** I'm just not sure where to take this thing - should I add a bit more romance, should I keep it lighthearted, make it funnier, make some darker? I just don't know. So I really do need your input here. **

**Oh, and I revamped my profile page...take a look? It took a while, and it'll all be for nothing if nobody reads it. **

**Well, on with the story. Lily Luna Potter has Quidditch issues. A little more anecdotal than intended. Lily just has a habit of telling her parents everything. And I mean everything. If you hate parentheses, I apologize in advance.  
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**There will be a little bit of Rose/Scorpius though...thinly veiled. Ooh, and a bit of pre-Lily/Lysander...a tad past brother/sisterly. And yeah. Read, enjoy, live your life. (And review. Reviews make the world go 'round too.)  
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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum - she'd be awfully disappointed - but I had my first Quidditch practice a day ago, and it was utter _rubbish. _I don't think I can fly anymore**. **I honestly would _quit_ if I didn't feel a certain responsibility to take James' spot as Chaser after he graduated last year. But based on yesterday, the team would probably be better off if I left. And maybe I would be better off too. It's O.W.L. year, the teachers are going absolutely _mental_, and you wouldn't believe how stressed I am over _everything_. It's terrible, Dad, absolutely terrible, and I don't quite know what to do, and Hugo's laughing at me right now (he thinks I'm frantically scribbling at the Potions essay due in an hour), and-

You know what? I'm going to start over. Wailing never solves anything, right? (Perhaps Lysander's right after all - logic, reason, sense. Apparently I'm a true Gryffindor, too prone to hot-headed...flights of fancy, if you will. But he is a _Ravenclaw, _after all. A naive and immature third-year dreamer, yet nonetheless a Ravenclaw. Doesn't he realize that his beloved _logic_ is futile in the face of Quidditch and upcoming exams? And since when has _he_ been logical in the first place? Honestly. Don't get me wrong, Lysander's a little _darling _of a boy, but he shouldn't attempt to lecture me when I'm half in tears. Well, he really shouldn't be lecturing me at _all _- I'm older and...and wiser._ Hell, _I'm supposed to be _his _confidante, not the other way around, right?) But I digress. Logic, reason, sense. I'll just sort everything out for you. All my problems, in order.

Well, first of all, flying seemed so much easier before last night. Now, its just awkward...miserable, in fact. My broom's always been rather reliable, but now, it takes so much _effort_ to control. Nerves, probably. I've never flown so _slowly _in my life. I'm afraid I'm even worse than Rose, now.

(Actually, no. _Nobody _can be worse than Rose at flying. She's so _abysmal_, she could only use her store of substantial Quidditch knowledge to become official match commentator. An obvious genius at everything else, just broomsticks don't seem to like her. But you know all that; you saw her burst into tears at my eighth birthday party - was it really that long ago? - when we played Quidditch in the yard and she spontaneously started spinning in circles for no apparent reason. Oh, but nobody would've told you about Easter last year, when she stole Al's broom and the invisibility cloak from his dormitory at midnight. Don't tell anyone else though...I think she only confessed to me. She managed to get off the ground all right, but the broom turned upside down fifty feet in the air, and she was stuck. But because she blushed and changed the subject when I asked how she managed to get down before morning, I'm _thoroughly_ convinced that Scorpius Malfoy was the one who found her. He's not _that_ bad, really. Not ideal though, in my opinion, but not as much of a brat as when I first joined Hogwarts. And Ly says that he's suddenly started to help the first-years who don't know the password to their Common Room. Rose's _excellent_ influence, I presume. He wouldn't do it on his own.)

You know, at least I _can _fly - maybe it isn't so bad after all. I I just need to be...a little braver. No, a _lot _braver. But you and Mum are _war heroes. _Courage isn't hereditary, but I must have _something _in me, right?

And next, I'm not sure how I can possibly show my face again at practice. Yesterday, I threw the Quaffle into the wrong side's hoop (and missed), and I almost broke a Beater's nose when I tried to pass it. Not to mention that some of my tosses were so horribly short that the ball practically fell all the way to the ground. And it actually _did _hit the ground thrice. Nobody actually _said _anything, but you know how it is, don't you? It's so easy to _feel _the disappointment radiating off of everyone. The team was expecting so much more of me because of my family - you and Mum were unattainable geniuses, James was such a wonderfully reckless Chaser in my place, and Albus is an absolutely _brilliant _seeker.

But yet, I suppose quitting would show me in ten times worse of a light than I am currently. There really is only one thing I _can_ do, which is to hold my head high and carry on. Difficult, yes, but essential. And it's not just my teammates that'll make this so hard. Hugo will keep the conversation on absolutely anything but the upcoming matches, Rose and Albus will keep unnaturally close by me when I'm alone in the library, Malfoy will keep half-smiling sympathetically (for Rose's sake, I think, because after all he's the Ravenclaw seeker and wants his team to win the Cup terribly) when he passes me in the halls, and Lysander will keep trying to help with his "mature" and philosophical comments. And everyone else'll be just as bad...actually, it's not truly _bad_ at all. I love them for it; I really do. And maybe - just _maybe_ - they'll make the inevitable next practice better, instead of worse. (Except for Malfoy. I'm getting the impression that every time he looks at me, he's willing me to break my leg or something.)

What was next...oh, yeah. O.W.L.s and the excess homework and..._damn. _Actually, now, it doesn't seem to _matter_ anymore. None of this does...at all.

Erm...I'm rather sorry, Dad. I've just wasted your time, I know...because this letter is useless now. Problems? I don't think I had any to begin with. But I _am_ sending this to you, regardless. Why? I simply think you'll find my complete _idiocy_ amusing. But please tell Mum none of this. It's not that I think she'll be disappointed - because I'm not ditching the team, after all - but I just want her to remain under the misconception that I'm somewhat...grown-up. If she asks about the letter, just tell her that I was feeling a tad homesick and I love you two. (Which is true, of course.)

Sincerely,  
><em>Lily <em>

P.S. - Incidentally, Hugo told me to tell you in my next letter that he thanks you and Mum for his half-birthday present. However, he most definitely did _not _want me to say that he ate all of the Chocolate Frogs in one night, and couldn't sleep at all because of a horrid stomachache. I'm just including it because I thought Mum would find it quite hilarious.


	6. Sincerely, James

**Well, I thought I was on a Lily/Lysander kick...but this one just _had _to get done. It's strange how boy POVs are so much easier to write, but James is so much more difficult than I had previously expected. Synopsis? Basically, he's suddenly realized that he's _not _immortal...and the feeling lasts for about ten minutes. XD Typical happy-go-lucky James Sirius Potter. **

**Now, a little OC background. Yes, this is the chapter with the dreaded OCs. XD Tell me how I do...I've had some Mary-Sue difficulty in the past. When I was ten, I had planned a story out where the lead character was an orphaned, independent quarter-dryad with eyes that changed color and a talking pet owl. So now, I'm rather reluctant to create an original character. Constructive criticism is therefore most welcome. **

**I won't give you their personalities or an incredibly detailed description of appearance, because that ends up terribly annoying. **

**Phillipa (Pippa/Pip) Clarke: Black hair (Well, I see James with reddish-brownish hair...and if black-haired Potters get the redheads, can't the opposite be true?), Muggleborn, Gryffindor, parents are both astrophysicists, likes Arithmancy. Yes, I see her as James' love interest, and she likes him...a lot, and I hope that's at least somewhat clear in the letter. It's not meant to be obvious, though...at least not to James. You'll see how clueless he is in a few minutes. It's almost like Ron/Hermione, in my opinion. Unintentional, but it just seemed to flow that way. However, I don't trust myself to do a full story involving James/Pippa, because chances are high it'll end up a big cliche. **

**Octavian Macmillan: Well, he's September-born, and Dominique is August-born and thus one year up. She won't figure into this letter really, but just so you know, they're...friends, and he's somewhat mesmerized by her. Hufflepuff, awfully messy brown hair (in a bad way, not at all "attractively mussed"), brown eyes, Gobstones nerd, somewhat brilliant at Ancient Runes, utterly average at everything else. Either a halfblood or a pureblood, because I'm not quite sure who his mother is. Honestly, I rather like 'Tavian, and he and Dominique'll get their own story when I find the time. **

**Anyways, enjoy...and help me with the OC-development if I need it. Seriously. :) Just realize that if anyone has worthwhile criticism, I actually _will_ go back in and edit.**

**PS: I apologize for the fact that these things are getting longer-and-longer-and-longer-and-longer. I hope I'm not boring you _darling_ readers to death. XD  
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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum (for obvious reasons, really), but I...but...but..._damn. _Oh _hell. _But I think I almost died tonight. There. I said it. I think I - no, we - almost _died. _And the _we _is the part that really gets me. If I was the only one who was stupid enough to get caught by the Acromantulas, that would be brilliant, and I would move on with my life. Except I somehow managed to get my _friends_ caught in this mess...and I would never forgive myself if they died.

They're absolutely miserable right now; I can tell. Neither of them is actually _blaming _me for anything - in fact, they're blaming _themselves_ for coming along without trying to talk me out of sneaking into the Forbidden Forest at night. Pip's just staring into the ashes of the fireplace, looking utterly blank and awfully tired. I've never seen her looking so...dead. And that scares me, really, because she would've _actually _been dead, and - _damn _again. Octavian's curled up like a cat on on of our armchairs - we couldn't possibly let him go alone to his _own _common room to face the nightmares of insomnia - and listing, in a loud whisper, all of the major and minor fouls in Gobstones. He tends to do that whenever he's nervous. I usually find it annoying, but now - Oh, Dad. I feel like a complete_ moron. _I know _you've_ been through so much worse than the Forest, but for me, this was the worst _I've_ ever felt. Exploring the corridors and escaping deserted rooms under Filch's nose? _That _is real adventure. Today? Today was a _disaster. _Nothing but. I don't mean to make you worried about me, I'm fine now, but I need to tell _somebody. _The guilt...it's eating me up from the inside. (I think it is, anyway. It could just be that I'm starving, because all of us were too excited to have any supper.)

Well, it was simply a very..._spontaneous _decision to go explore the Forbidden Forest. I actually only made up my mind at about four, while the House Elves were giving me tea and scones in the kitchens. And I suddenly realized that I'd explored absolutely _everything _inside the castle - the Restricted Section of the library, all four Common Rooms, the secret passage into Honeydukes, all the strange little alcoves behind tapestries...I could go on forever, you know. Outside the castle? I've obviously been to Hagrid's hut and the Quidditch pitch...and I fell into the lake that one time last year on my fourteenth birthday. _So_, basically, I was under the impression that if I've been everywhere except the Forest, why not finish off the list? Better now than never, right? (Well, I actually _have _been to the forest once, this year, when Hagrid took us to see bowtruckles in their natural habitat, but it's just not the _same _when you're being..._supervised._ But that's beside the point.)

Anyways, it's really no fun, not to mention _stupid, _to go wandering in the Forbidden Forest alone. I couldn't ask Al...he's a _third-year__. _Rose would call the Aurors on me, I swear. Lily and Hugo are even more of babies than Al, and the rest are just as bad. And so being the wonderfully chivalrous Potter that I am, I asked someone in my own year, who happened to be a _girl, _to come with me. (Well, I actually _wanted _to ask Pippa. She's...good company...except when she isn't. At any rate, she's better than the dimwits in my own dormitory. McLaggen's more annoying than I am, which says a lot, and that what's-his-name...Pennyfeather, Timothy Pennyfeather _never shuts up._) Oddly enough, Pip was ready and willing to go off with me. Something about celebrating the last of me sneaking out at night to places unknown. Honestly, I was just glad she didn't yell the bloody walls down...or fall into a faint. Or cry. Girls tend to be unpredictable..._very _unpredictable. But Pippa's actually rather straightforward...most of the time. Apparently, today was not part of "most of the time". She went and told Octavian - _Octavian_! - to come with us. Not that Octavian's not my friend...well, best friend, which actually makes sense if consider the aforementioned dimwits in my dorm...but nobody in their right mind would choose _him _as a _co-conspirator _in something like _this. _Okay, I suppose that was somewhat unkind. It's not like he panics in the face of danger, and it's not like he's slow-witted or horribly nonathletic...it's just...well...Pip seems to fancy the _pants _off of him, and it's making me go _barmy. _

It started at the beginning of this year, I believe...things started to get awfully awkward between us. Pip and me, I mean. Or Pip and I. Or me and Pip. I honestly don't care right now. (And yes, I know fully well that I'm going off on a tangent here, but it's so much easier to write about romantic trivialities than..._Acromantulas_.) So, yeah, Pippa's never been able to talk to _me_ properly since the _train compartment. _She keeps on about the _weather. _The weather, I tell you! And homework. She's started to care a thousand times more about homework, too. Every time I look at her, her face is bent so close to her book or her parchment that I'm afraid her eyes are going to give out! It'll serve her right_, _though. Because whenever she talks to _Octavian_, her face seems to light up, and she laughs more than I've ever seen her laugh in my _life_, and she keeps twirling a loose strand of hair in a _damn _irritating and _affected_ way while staring at a point just beyond my left shoulder. And _every single time _I end up alone with Pip, she turns red and somehow manages to bring Octavian into it all. Just like today. Well, _yesterday_, if you want to be technical. It's way past midnight now, after all. (Oh, _hell._ She's just gone to perch on the arm of Octavian's chair, looking deceptively innocent and staring at my shoe. Damn her.) The only reason I care about all this is for Octavian's sake, of course. He's already getting his heart broken because of _Dominique_, of all people, and her horridly pointless infatuation with that Davies bloke. So I don't know how much he can take of Pippa blatantly _throwing _herself at him. Yeah...so my reason for bothering is most certainly not jealousy. Honestly, I think I may have a...thing...for Suzanne Xavier, that Ravenclaw one year up. She's rather smart, incredibly pretty, has nice legs, and yes, is quite a bit of an airhead, but what does that matter? Except for the fact that she's dating Davies...the one I mentioned earlier...the one Dominique's been absolutely _obsessed _with for about two years. It's all so...convoluted, you know? Like a spiderweb, almost...

Oh, _damn_, I ramble too much. Point being: spiderweb...Acromantulas..._forest_. So _anyways, _the three of us stayed up in our Common Room until about a quarter past ten; then we hid under the Invisibility Cloak and got to the outskirts of the forest without any major issues. But right before we took the first step in, Pip tripped over my foot, fell down, screeched like a _banshee_, tried to lift herself back up but got all three of us tangled in a big heap, threw the cloak off, screamed _again_, and luckily did _not _wake up the entire population of Hogwarts. Idiotic...although Pippa's _always _an idiot. (Actually, it depends on your definition of _idiot. _Mine is: a person who is academically smart, but otherwise an incredible...well, _idiot_.) After this terribly chaotic mess, we finally recovered enough to actually _enter_ the forest. And it was the most frightening thing I've ever done in my entire life. _Instantly _the atmosphere became so much more dark...chilling...eerie...it was _awful. _There's nothing more to tell, though, until we got to the clearing with the damn Acromantulas. We were just walking along in a perfectly straight line...or what we thought was a perfectly straight line...although it ended up being more of a circle. It was absolutely silent, disregarding the strange cries and whistling wind in the background; nobody said anything at all_, _nor did anybody want to. (Except for Octavian - he made one rather glum comment about the fact that we weren't seeing any "real live centaurs". But that doesn't count.) So eventually, we ended up in a clearing-type-thing. And then three hairy...appendages...came down from behind and all of us were lifted into the air. _Hell, _at that moment, I was certain we were dying. _Dreadful_, you know? So while I was planning my will, Octavian was yelling his head off and Pip was swearing the loudest I've ever heard her. (Well, she wasn't _really _swearing. The thing is, ever since I said _"Merlin's pants" _a year ago at something-or-the-other, Pippa's found a fascinating hobby in creating her own...expressions. For a while it was _"Godric's beard"_...and then after that it was _"Agrippa's eyelash"_...and now she's overusing _"Circe's ingrown toenail."_ It gets irritating after a while.)

Yeah...so we were being swung around by huge hairy spiders holding our ankles. (You know, when you put it that way, this whole thing actually sounds comical. And it probably _was _wonderfully hilarious. We were just too petrified to realize. Almost died? Of course not! I'm _James Sirius Potter - _invincible. And I have just had the biggest adventure of my _life_.) So said spiders talked among themselves - wondering who to eat first, from the little I heard. But they went berserk after a while, dividing into random factions and attacking each other...but without letting go of _us._ I suppose they had no real leader to keep them in order after that big...Aragog-thing you told me about died. Regardless of the cause, because of this battle, I was feeling almost seasick, Pippa was shrieking like mad, and Octavian had practically fainted. And then, suddenly - and this is the weird part - a really old blue _car _came crashing through. Emphasis on _car, _but also emphasis on _old. _Overall really dated and incredibly ugly, even when you ignore the scratches and mud on its outside. The Acromantulas dropped us in shock, blinded by the headlights (I think I'll have those bruises for _life_), and we scrambled into the car. Which drove us to the forest outskirts on its _own_. I'm not even going to bother to try and make sense of that. And somehow we limped and scrambled up into the castle to Gryffindor Tower...

I feel...better now, I think. I should probably sign off now, considering that Octavian needs to get back to his dorm before morning, and I need to give him the cloak. Please don't stress, we weren't really _that _close to dying, and fourth-years aren't _allowed_ to die, anyway. But if you know any information about that weird car, just reply and tell us. It's the only lose end in this; after that's cleared up, we can put this entire unfortunate _incident _behind us.

Sincerely,  
><em>James<em>


	7. Sincerely, Victoire

***insert long string of apologies here***

**Life's been a mess, both in this site and out. Homework's been depressingly frequent...tests all the more so...and yeah. ****And meanwhile, I've discovered the wonders of HPFC, and challenges with due dates obviously take precedence over something like this. **

**So I've _finally _been able to come back to my first story, *applause*, and I'm incredibly relieved that I've actually found the time to un-ignore this thing. **

**I suppose I'll just do all of the Bill/Fleur bunch now, starting with Victoire. And btw, I've managed to make this one _somewhat_ shorter than the old ones. XD So as not to bore you lovely people.**

**(And then will be the Scamanders, then the Percy/Audrey kids, then the George/Angelina batch...and yikes. That's everyone, isn't it? I would do Teddy too, but that would just be much too _sad_. So after all that, I'll either do repeats, OCs, or different gens. But that's waaay too far in the future to even consider.) **

**Anyway, I'll stop rambling. Thank you to my readers, and reviews would, as always, be welcomed gratefully.**

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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum - she'd throw a _fit_, I tell you - but my hair now goes no further than the top of my shoulders. You see my problem, don't you? _Don't you? _Mum would say it's probably Teddy's fault, because _everything _is Teddy's fault; the issue here is that this time...she's right. _Indirectly, _it was that fifth-year Slytherin whose last name I can't for the life of me remember (except that it starts with an _X_ and ends with a _Z_). The thing is, though, if we're talking about "indirectly", it really was Teddy's fault after all. Or...or even mine. But you know, regardless, I'm _perfectly_ all right with short hair, so don't worry about me. Really.

_Fine_ then. I actually am...incredibly upset. It sounds immensely shallow, but _I miss my hair. _I swear I could _murder _Teddy (if Professor Longbottom hadn't _already_ punished him by putting him in detention with the X-Z idiot). And _oh dear_, Mum's really going to murder _me_. If only I could magically regrow it...but Madam Pomfrey simply_ can't_. Charms, spells, potions...none of them seem to work on me. In fact, the _third_ obscure growth incantation that she tried...it turned my hair turquoise. I looked like Teddy himself for half an hour until Madam Pomfrey figured out how to change it back. You know, it's because my hair is just..._different_. And I don't know what to do now. I honestly don't.

It actually happened in the hallway between Charms and Potions class this morning. Teddy was walking with me; he wanted to prove that he could keep a bubble of Drooble's from popping for at least five minutes. I'm guessing that he was also looking for an excuse to ditch History of Magic, but he wouldn't really. (Teddy simply _doesn't_ skive off. No, that's _really_ the truth.) But then we bumped into that Slytherin in his year, and it suddenly turned _awkward_. That bloody prat made some _awfully_ snide remark involving my failed Qudditch tryout the other day...but there was no _need_ for him to mention it even if it _was_ that abysmal. (I think the attempt to make the team was my first act of teenage rebellion - which makes no sense because I simply _can't_ play to the level of...everybody else in the family. To make a terribly long story short, I tried out for Keeper since I thought it seemed the least dangerous. Except when we started, all the Chasers _typically_ started gaping and fell off their brooms, and I was so shocked that I fell off too. And it _hurt_. _Really_ badly...I think I burst into tears afterwards. No idea why I'm in Gryffindor, I tell you.)

Teddy then popped his bubble - shame, he'd been blowing it for four minutes and thirty seconds - and drew his wand at X-Z. I'm rather sure that the two of them have had some random rivalry for a while now. (Something to do with a Gryffindor-Slytherin double Potions lesson and multiple firecrackers...but don't take my word for it. It's just a rumor.) Anyways, it wasn't _for_ me that Teddy attacked X-Z. I was just the excuse for him to tear that idiot into pieces. So then they started dueling in the corridor. Quite stupid, really. Seemed like the only spell X-Z could do was _Aguamenti_. Not painful in the least. And I don't know _what_ Teddy was trying to do, but it _obviously_ wasn't working. I tried to break them apart at the beginning, but third-year girl versus two fifth-year boys is an incredibly futile battle. So...I gave up...and was about to leave...when X-Z switched tactics from water to fire. Basically, Teddy's _Protego_ ended up at some strange angle, and the _Incendio_ hit the end of my hair. No _legitimate_ damage was done, but about half of my hair got singed off. (And I also think I fainted from sheer fright, but that's beside the point.)

So...yes, that was all, I believe. I'm sure Teddy really means his apology. When I woke up in the Hospital Wing, he gave me the last of his gum, assured me that my hair was still beautiful (_liar_), and then went back to angrily cleaning bedpans with X-Z. Anyways, some final thoughts: Basically, there's no need for you to curse the people involved with halitosis or anything like that...but sympathy would be lovely. Heaps and _heaps_ of sympathy. (And some of Mum's macarons, if she's baked any recently, okay?)

Sincerely,  
><em>Victoire <em>


	8. Sincerely, Dominique

**Huh. I guess when you have inspiration, it comes in a flood. (Yeah...I consider it "a flood" to have two updates in less than a week. Pitiful, I know.) **

**Dominique and her romantic problems up next...and yes, this is the first one that's _fully_ romance. Don't worry, it'll go back to normal after this. (This one's also known as: THE RETURN OF THE _DREADED_ OCS! MWAHAHAHA!) **

**Sorry for subjecting you to more Pippa and Octavian. Mostly 'Tavian this time, though. And I'm sorry that we'll be going even further into OC-land in the future chapters. _And_ I'm even more sorry for pretending I have knowledge about that mysterious world of boyfriends and girlfriends, when I don't and never will. **

**And I'll also apologize for that previous lapse into Voldemort-ish evil-laughter. I'll shut up now. **

**Except to go down on my knees and beg you for reviews. **

**There. Now I'll really shut up.**

**(Oh wait...on a side note, if any of you want to take part in a competition thing that I created, could you be _wonderful_ and just click the link on the top of my profile page? Selfish desire, really...but as you probably know, anything on page two of HPFC or beyond can only be dug up via archaeological excavation. So I just need you lovely people as an excuse to bring it back to page one. XD) **

**~Fin~**

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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum, but an hour ago, I had a boyfriend. Now, I _think_ I still have a boyfriend. Problem? They're...they're two different people. Mum would call me a _scarlet girl._ I'm _not_, though...at least, I don't think I am. All I know is that I feel caught up in a...whirlwind of sorts. Which is strange, because my love life has never been important to me. Well, not _that_ important to me. (I'm a sixth-year Ravenclaw, after all. My life is notes and N.E.W.T. classes and...and nothing else.) But seriously. I probably should be telling all this to Mum rather than you, but I think you're less likely to yell at me. And give me advice other than to_ lock myself in my dormitory and protect myself from all unsuitable specimens of the male gender_...you get the picture, right?

So, I think I wrote to you last a month ago. Properly wrote. (My random essay-long postscripts on the bottom of Louis' letters don't count at all. Because then I can't say _anything _that I don't want him to see.) Point is that...unless Louis told you, which he probably didn't...you won't know about the existence of...erm...Raymond. Raymond Davies. And honestly, he's _perfect. _Well, he _was_ perfect...before. He's a genius (it's a perceived prerequisite of being in Ravenclaw), Head Boy, a genius, Quidditch captain, a genius, incredibly handsome, a genius...yes, the redundancy was intentional. (But I'm justified. He _is_ a _genius_, you know.) I suppose I just find intelligence attractive. Anyways, the major problem with Raymond is his...his unwillingness to commit. And that's putting it mildly. He finds a new girlfriend every other week, and excuses himself with the claim that he's _just looking for his soul-mate, but has't found her yet_. And all of us besotted idiots fall for it all...until he changes his mind. We all think that we'll be the one to change him...but _no_. (And honestly, I'm not sure who _can_.)

Basically, I've been somewhat...obsessed with him for about two years now. It started when he was studying in the library, and I was a fourth-year (a _highly_ impressionable one), who had no idea what all the girls saw in him. I was attempting to lecture my _favorite_ cousin (James...note the sarcasm) and that spitfire _girlfriend_ of his (well, I'm exaggerating, since she isn't _really_ dating him; she's actually going out with McLaggen, just to spite him for eyeing that pretty yet daft dorm-mate of mine, a airhead if you ever saw one...honestly...) Oh dear, these parenthetical side-notes are confusing me. _Anyways_, I was trying to talk Pippa out of standing on James' shoulders to reach some book on the top shelf (this was when they were _actually_ friends without the romance-dynamic, the way _third-years_ usually are), but he just looked at us...and got up from his chair and walked over and just _handed _it to them (did I mention that he's _tall_?)...and then he smiled (_lopsidedly_) at me...and by that time I was smitten. _Very_ far gone.

_Damn_. You know what? Just don't read that last paragraph. Run-on sentences (_much_ too many _ands_), incomplete thoughts...it's _awful_...I'm sorry. The gist of it is that I fell for Raymond after he gave my cousin a book. Don't question the logic; there is none.

So...we started dating three weeks ago. And we've been going out since then until...well, until an hour ago. I believe this is the longest he's ever been in a relationship; the norm's about a week and a half. Worst was Suzanne. (The aforementioned "airhead" and current object of James' attentions. It's all in the section I told you not to read.) They were together for...less than four days last year. Not that I blame him...considering her character. And just in case you were worrying, I was exaggerating three paragraphs ago when I said that _he finds a new girlfriend every other week_. It's not like he immediately replaces one with another...he would've run out of prospective dates in less than a year. There's usually a two month break in between...sometimes three. (Raymond has _some _morals...however unbelievable that statement may seem.) You know, he was positively lovely to me at the beginning...compliments and conjured flowers and such. He even let me help him study for his N.E.W.T.s, even though he didn't need any help at all. _Obviously_. But the fact that he (a _genius_) thought I was smart...that felt _brilliant._ Not to mention the fact that he carried my bag between classes, and kissed me goodbye before we parted ways in the corridors, and - _oh hell. _I think I'm elaborating too much. I apologize for any symptoms of _nausea_ I may have caused. Just know that we were _sensible_, even as we were _disgustingly_ romantic. I _told_ you already, he has a _certain_ degree of morality.

The reason he _ditched_ me was...apparently we're too...different. He's looking for _spontaneity_, and although I'm a _lovely girl_, I'm just _not his type_. Apparently I'm too conventional...too wary of breaking rules...too focused...too...too..._boring_, perhaps. (Or not boring enough...since it _really_ depends on perspective.) Regardless...well, _of course_ I didn't _cry_; what do you take me for? I stalked off, dignity intact. (For the most part.) Until...until I ran into Octavian outside the entrance to the kitchens.

And you know Octavian...all too well. I'd be stating the obvious to tell you that he's been..._special_ to me...for a very long time. (That was _horribly_ worded.) But I seriously think I've always felt closer to him...and James and Pippa, than to the people in my own year. I suppose that's what comes of being born in late August. But Octavian...he's not...not..._oh_, how can I put this? Raymond's a _genius_; Octavian's _hopeless _at everything except Ancient Runes...specifically because it doesn't require extensive wandwork. Raymond's a star seeker; Octavian's captain of the _Gobstones_ team. He doesn't even _own _a decent broom, and he _crashed_ mine against the Quidditch stands the first time he tried to fly it. Raymond's hair is..._beautiful_ in its disarray; Octavian's is simply disheveled - and quite frankly, an utter _mess_. Raymond's eyes are grey-blue-green-ish; Octavian's are...to quote himself, _cow __dung_. Point being, there's really no explanation for the fact that we ended up snogging each other senseless.

Well, there was _obviously _more to it. I just chose not to bore you with the details. And said details involved him swearing violently at the very mention of Raymond's name (then blushing profusely at his _uncharacteristic_ use of vulgarity)...and him bringing up the _incident_ at my thirteenth birthday when James _Silencio_-ed both of us by accident, and we came up with our own secret code until it wore off (he _still _remembers the code and claims he'll _never_ forget it, which makes me feel _miserably_ guilty)...and him giving me compliments that were _terribly_ pathetic in all but their sincerity (but they _did _somehow work on me)...and - _damn_ again. I apologize once more for my tendency to...ramble.

That was all background information. The point of this letter was to ask for advice. Yes, even though after everything I now have a new boyfriend (to a certain extent)...I still need advice. Because...well, I'm afraid that this may be...what is commonly described as a _rebound relationship_. And the thing is...an hour ago, I would have laughingly pitied any person who called herself Octavian Macmillan's _girlfriend_. And now...now I wouldn't have it any other way. And this change of heart...that's what scares me. Because it's something _incredibly_ close to _love_, but there's no reason to it at all. And I can't _believe_ in something so _illogical_. Maybe I'm just so sick of waiting for perfection that I've jumped straight from one cliche to another. Or maybe I'm innately a -

Oh, _forget it_. I'm going back to my Care of Magical Creatures essay. At least _it_ makes sense.

Sincerely,  
><em>Dominique<em>

P.S. - No, really, don't tell Mum. You may think you need her advice in anything involving the romance department, but just _don't_. I've never lied to you before, and I now realize that I just _can't_. So...so everything in paragraph one...about her probably thinking I'm a _scarlet girl_...it's a lie. Mum would _never_ - so yeah, I made that up on a whim. The real reason I'm asking _you_ is because...when Mum was a Triwizard contestant, she went to the Yule Ball with Raymond's father. Awkward, much? (But if it makes you feel better, you could just pretend that I like your advice more than her cookies.)

P.P.S - Well, _obviously_ that last sentence wasn't intended seriously. You know _fully well_ that I've always gone to you for advice, ever since Victoire made me cry by beating me in Exploding Snap when I was five.

P.P.P.S - It's too depressing to end a letter with a memory of me _crying_. So I might as well thank you for sending that new pot of periwinkle Everlasting Ink. Or not...since because of it, I couldn't _Evanesco_ all the _rubbish_ I've written in here. But the color's awfully _pretty_...so thank you.


	9. Sincerely, Louis

**Sorry for the wait again. XD**

**I know I said something about how the romance would go away after last chapter...but nah. But this is more of an unrequited-crush-type-thing...it's cathartic...'cause my own love life is even more of an epic failure than normal. XD**

**Erm...yes. So Louis has his entire existence screwed up by Fred. (Which sounds like my life right now. To all of you out there, NEVER let a guy, even if he's your best friend, try to set you up with anyone. They have no subtlety, no tact, and _ugh_. Ignore me, I'm ranting. XD)**

**New OCs! I apologize in advance. **

**Sheila Perkins: Well, if anyone remembers the old guy who was Arthur Weasley's work partner...the one who lent him the tent...she's his great-niece. Gryffindor, brown hair, brown eyes, average in every way, but a _crazy_ Muggle aficionado (who has an unfortunate tendency to blow stuff up during her...experimentation). Friends with fellow Gryffindors Louis and Fred, solely because none of the girls want to associate with the person who wrecked their dorm on the third day of first year. **

**Marie Fontaine: Moved from Belgium to England when she was eight-ish. So the accent's so faint as to be nonexistent. She's rather pretty, and she _knows_. Not that she cares much about it, though. Dainty and delicate in everything but demeanor. Slytherin through and through...ish. ;)**

**And a note: I'm leaning towards Louis/Marie and Fred/Sheila as of now, but it could go either way based on this letter, or I could even throw in another OC for Louis since Marie's..._weird_. So you should probably tell me what you think of the romance, 'cause I'm no good at it. XD**

**After this, actually, is Molly. I've been having _issues_ with her, so I need to get her out of the way. **

**And...I have _no_ ideas for Lucy, Fred, and Roxanne. So if you have any humorous incidents you'd like to share, drop me a review, 'kay?**

**Happy New Year!**

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><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum, she'll complain about the _expense_, but you'll _have_ to buy me a new broom before next week's match. Because...my girlfriend practically _vaporized_ the old one; she was trying to turn it into a rocketship for a Muggle Studies project. (And it wasn't even _old_. That's the sad part. Auntie Ginny sent it to me as a surprise present for my birthday two months ago. I doubt she told you about it...you'd probably complain that she's _spoiling_ me.) And _yes_, that previous statement about a "girlfriend" means I'm dating Sheila. Don't tell Mum _that_ either; I don't think she's liked her ever since she exploded the pudding during that Christmas dinner a few years ago.

But regardless, please don't be shocked that I'm going out with _Sheila _of all people. I really do like her. She's smart(-ish), and sweet(-ish), and pretty(-ish)...and spends most of her time setting things on fire, but I'm generally _fine_ with that (except if it's _my_ stuff that's incinerated)...and...well, she spends the other half of her time crying on my shoulder over Fred.

Fine. _Fine_! I'll admit it. We're only together to spite Fred. (Not that it's working, mind you.) Why? He bloody stole _her_, that's why!

(I'll warn you, Dad, there'll probably be an overuse of exclamation points in this letter. Try to avoid being alarmed.)

_Her_, in this case, refers to...well, _her_. The Marie Antoinette to my Louis XVI. If that's _actually_ an apt analogy, then Fred's just _guillotined_ me. It's hard seeing them together...since she looks..._happy_. She's not supposed to be _happy_; she's supposed to turn up her nose, and flounce about, and swish her pretty golden hair around, and hex people...hex _me_ in particular. But now, she's stopped even _looking _at me. Apparently any friend of Fred's _isn't_ an enemy of hers, which is a pity, because I don't think I can stand even being ten feet away from Fred for much longer. She doesn't have eyes for _anybody_ but him. And she bats her lashes at him and makes an utter fool of herself and - _hell_, I can't stand it.

I swear, she's turned into a _Hufflepuff_ or something, because she's given up _everything_ that made her...well..._Marie_. Her haughtiness, snobbery, even her _temper_. And especially the way she managed to turn around _any_ situation to her own advantage. (Like when she pushed me into a Fanged Geranium, and claimed _I_ pushed _her_ when Professor Longbottom questioned us. He didn't know what to say, particularly as her bleeding-finger-act looked oddly realistic.) I've always _hated_ that about her, but now...I miss it. And the fact that it's _Fred's_ fault makes it all the worse.

You see, Fred had a _plan_ to get us together...a master plan, which _really_ should have worked. He assumed that if he got Marie and me _together_ in detention, then _something _would happen. I was bloody well up for it; 'specially since I've been somewhat infatuated with her since the winter of fourth year. (If I remember correctly, which I _always_ do, I accidentally-on-purpose got us stuck under the mistletoe, and she punched me, properly _punched_ me, with that characteristic roll of her eyes...and an expression that rather resembled a smile. Which was probably me hallucinating, since she _never_ smiled...before _now_. But she looked _beautiful_ then, I tell you. Beautiful.)

_Anyways_, Fred gave me one of Sheila's new insanely high-power firework-type-things. (She showed them to me with rapt, shining eyes. Apparently she _finally_ got her hands on a Muggle cellular phone, took it apart, tried to reassemble it with magic, and screwed up the wires in such a way that...basically, she came up with something else that seemed to act like a firecracker. Sheila managed to make the technical details last about an hour. I fell asleep; Fred somehow managed to stay awake; I don't know _how_.) So according to "the plan", I would throw the firework at Marie in class, which would likely cause her to throw something back at me. And we'd both end up in detention...cleaning bedpans or something. _Lovely_. But I believed that _any_ situation in which we'd be together would be better than nothing.

We tried to begin Operation Fireworks last Wednesday. We were going to do it during Herbology, but Professor Longbottom was in such an _awfully_ good mood...spring weather was getting to him, I suppose. It seemed he'd rather get bitten by twenty Tentaculas than give _anybody_ a detention! He even ignored Zabini when she stuck her tongue out at the pot in front of her and _ditched_. So we adapted the plan a bit during Care of Magical Creatures. (If Hagrid actually _collected_ stuff, we'd be doomed. Fred and I did nothing at _all_, and Sheila only wrote '_Both are horse-like...?_' on her diagram comparing unicorns and thestrals.) Result was that we moved the plan to Defence the next day.

Well, of _course_ there would be a problem with that. Cupid never seems to smile on me. See, Uncle Harry popped up out of _nowhere_ to give one of his surprise "lectures", teaching us sixth-years about the Unforgivables. It would have been interesting if I hadn't been on tenterhooks the whole time. I was about to tell Fred to "abort the mission," when he winked at me blatantly and slid the firework across the floor to Marie's bag. It blew up in a few seconds, after which she shrieked and threw bubotuber pus at us. (I'm not quite sure _why_ she was carrying pus around with her, so don't ask.) On the bright side, the pus missed us. But on the other hand...well...to put it simply, utter chaos ensued, and Fred and Sheila dutifully blamed me for it.

Uncle Harry hid a smile while looking at me...I don't know why he failed Divination, because I swear, he knew _everything_. And because he _knew_, he conveniently gave us both detentions in the same sentence...effectively putting us in the same detention. Except the Head Girl and Head Boy unfortunately had a free period, and so were sitting in the back of the room to listen to the lecture. Problem? Al and Rose..._like_ me. A lot. And also know that it's extremely out of character for me to break at least two school rules in one go. So they both looked at me in a _terribly_ sympathetic manner, and immediately blamed Fred for the firework. Uncle Harry trusts those two, for obvious reasons. And he appears to value this _trust_ more than he values my nonexistent romantic life. (I think it's either because of his _infallible_ sense of honesty, or the fact that he doesn't think Marie would make a very worthwhile niece-in-law.) Which is why _Fred_ got the detention instead of me.

(Rose and Al have now _completely_ lost their top spots on the list of _People I'm Actually Okay With Being Related To_. Albus seems rather disappointed about that, and keeps trying to corner me in the hallways. Rose just looks at me with sad eyes across the common room while "pretending" to study. I actually think she writes grammatically correct sonnets to that idiotic Malfoy boyfriend of hers instead of doing her homework. I don't know what she sees in him. _Honestly_.)

Point being, Fred's plan...worked. He and Marie came out of detention in Greenhouse Three...together...in _very_ good spirits. He hasn't bothered to apologize. Typical Fred. Sheila's _awfully_ torn up about it, though. I think she feels worse than I do. She's, well, lost the only person who _liked_ the fact that she managed to blow up anything and everything she set eyes upon. And I've lost...my two best friends. And _her_. And Al and Rose. And...

And my broom. Which was the point of this whole thing, anyway. (Is rambling hereditary? Or is it just contagious?) It'd be nice if you could somehow get me that new Firebolt (Lightening Edition Deluxe, Second Release) that came out a few weeks ago. Just do it without Mum knowing. You see, if Gryffindor beats Ravenclaw, we give Slytherin a chance of winning the cup. And maybe if I'm a good enough keeper, Marie'll _like_ me. At the very least, I'll have a good broom. Which is _something_.

I'd sign off with _love_, but I don't seem to have much of it lately. So:

Sincerely,  
><em>Louis<em>

P.S. - Sheila has this _damn_ irritating habit of looking over my shoulder while I write. Anyways, she wants me to send her love to Grandpa, and to ask him if he has any spare generator parts she can borrow. (But _please_ tell him not to give her any. I'm _sick_ of explosions right now.)


	10. Sincerely, Molly

**I don't even think I _can_ apologize for this delay. Suffice it to say that I'm unbelievably sorry, and I hope my readers are loyal enough to forgive me. **

**So here we are again, this time with Molly. **

**The main problem I had to face here is...her age. Why?**

**A. I want her as young as possible, because let's face it, Percy probably wouldn't have found a girl fast enough to marry early. XD**

**B. She can't be younger than Al and Rose, because Percy was at the station in the book. I mean, I could always find a lame excuse to get around that, but it'd end up being ridiculously contrived.**

**C. She can't be James' age, because then she probably would have been mentioned in the epilogue.**

**D. Ditto for Albus.**

**E. Which means she's stuck with Dominique, one year above James. Except I didn't plan for this in advance, so she wasn't mentioned in Dominique's letter. **

**Hence my dilemma. XD Well, as you can see, I...well...took the easy way out.**

**So happy reading, and _pleasepleaseplease_ review if you missed me! Come on guys, I need incentive here. XD**

* * *

><p>Dear Dad,<p>

Please don't tell Mum - I don't know how she can work in St. Mungo's and _still _be afraid of injuries- but I'm in the Hospital Wing. And it's my own fault. No, I mean, it's _literally_ my own fault. I..._purposely_...turned my whole arm a _disgusting_ green, and everyone thinks I got bitten or cursed - or worse. But I weighed my options, and this seemed like the best course of action. After...after Domi stopped speaking to me, I figured I needed to do something drastic to get her back.

And this supposedly drastic plan seems beyond drastic in retrospect. Also beyond stupid. But it really all started with the Head Boy. Raymond Davies, idiot extraordinaire. Dominique thinks (well, she _thought_) he's absolutely brilliant, but in my opinion, natural brains just _aren't _comparable to intelligence cultivated through study and hard work. The word 'effort' has no place in his dictionary, and he still happens to be so _infuriatingly_ perfect! But I digress. Point being, the aforementioned idiot and Dominique went out for a grand total of twenty-two days, during which she behaved like a brainless and starry-eyed romantic. But she was so ridiculously _happy_ that I couldn't find it in my heart to criticize her. (No, that's..._unfortunately_ not true. _She_ just couldn't find it in _her_ heart to _listen_ to me criticize her.) And then after he _typically_ got tired of his woeful state of monogamy, he ditched her. Regardless of his so-called 'brilliance', I don't believe he's _anything_ more than a playboy at heart.

But Dominique, however much of a daydreaming butterfly she might seem, wouldn't go off her head merely because of a breakup. The thing is..._immediately_ after Raymond broke up with her - it was in the library - he walked over to my table and asked me out. It was ridiculously out-of-character for him; he usually waits precisely two months before finding the next object of his affections. (No, of course I don't keep track. It's an approximation, _honestly_.) But he told me, in Domi's hearing (shamelessly stupid, in my opinion), that I was unconventionally gorgeous. _Gorgeous_! It would be a lie if I said I wasn't flattered. So I suppose I lied to Raymond, because my response was that I wasn't in the least bit flattered. He then proceeded to fling ten tonnes of adjectives in my face - 'intelligent', 'witty', 'charismatic', and the like. And after that I think he started to run out, because he was forced to resort to 'whimsical' and 'ethereal', neither of which I am at all. But then, as if he hadn't done enough damage, he told me I was infinitely less 'flighty' than Domi, and therefore I made 'much better girlfriend-material.' It made me sick, so I told him just that and drew my wand. He had enough brains to run at the sight. (And Dad, I swear, I wouldn't have gone out with him anyway, even if he asked me less...crudely. It'd be a distraction from my N.E.W.T.s and all. And no, I'm not just saying this to make you happy. Seriously.) But still, Dominique was...a bit...shattered. I suppose she believed every last word of his spiel, and was angry enough to blame me for it. She didn't merely vow never to speak to me again, she proclaimed that she'd forget my very existence.

She kept this promise for less than a week, but that less-than-a-week was _pure hell_. I was completely and _utterly_ ignored by my very best friend, if you can imagine how that feels. And by the transitive property, I was given the cold shoulder by James, that girlfriend of his, the girl who _should_ be his girlfriend but isn't yet, and Dominique's new boyfriend. (Yes, she's already gotten a new boyfriend. The poor thing's been her lapdog for ages; I think it's time she gave him _something_.) Honestly, I'm used to being shunned by James - he doesn't particularly like my lectures - but this was absurd. Because Dominique kept the incident in the library quiet out of pure mortification, he didn't even know _why_ he was ignoring me. I suppose he assumed it was Raymond-related, because all of Dominique's tempers have been Raymond-related for the past two years. But there's something magnetic about Dominique that inspires the blindest of loyalty. And so I was literally _ostracized_.

I decided that enough was enough by last Thursday. A near-death experience was my first choice, but I quickly realized the impracticality of that. Because _actually_ dying would certainly put a hole in the plan. Then I decided to duel Raymond in Domi's name. Except that concept's archaic, not to mention more humorous than daring. _And_ I'd probably end up getting a detention. (As you know, my record, as of now, is _spotless_. I hope you're proud.) I contemplated wandering into the Forbidden Forest to get bitten by a thestral, except I can't see thestrals and the textbook's unclear on whether or not they eat humans. That was when I hit upon the idea to turn my arm green.

It worked beautifully, particularly because it's such a _putrid_ shade of green. Dominique wept over me and begged pardon a thousand times over. So that's over and done with. James actually cried too, and I probably shouldn't have told you that, because he looked so _ashamed_ afterwards. Everyone else is panicked too, which is an unfortunate complication, seeing as they're not in the least involved. And to top it all off, Madam Pomfrey's at her wits' end. She's tried everything, and obviously none of it's working. And I've missed about five days of schoolwork by being in the Hospital Wing. The guilt's at horrific levels, and I don't know what to do. I would just change my arm back in the middle of the night, but my wand's in my dorm. And if I confess, everyone will hate me all over again. I'm coming up with a plan to sneak out, but that's ridiculously difficult, and I'm in _such_ a quandary. _  
><em>

Put simply, _I need help_. Please, _please_ don't send a lecture; I've scolded myself enough already. But a spare wand, or an invisibility cloak, or _something_ like that would do wonders for me. Thanks in advance, Dad, and I _do_ love you. Very much. In spite of all...this. (Lu sends her love too. She's so scared for me that she never leaves my side. It's pathetic and disconcerting at the same time.)

Sincerely,  
><em>Molly<em>


End file.
